Chapter 19: The Secret War

Douglas's eyes didn’t leave Ezra even as Milo and Emma were getting further away. The chaos of the guild hall faded into the background as Ezra wondered if he should approach Douglas. He had helped them, but there was still too much Ezra didn’t know about him. Someone who could shut up Hubert so easily was definitely someone to be wary of, yet the fact remained that he had been noticed.

The choice wasn’t up to him anymore as Douglas left his lonely corner and began walking across the room. Milo and Emma were already out of his sight, and Ezra didn’t know where else to go. A large board covered with posters bisected a double staircase to his right. Too many people around that. It would be impossible to find Emma and Milo in that crowd. To his left was the doorway. There’s no way they’ve left already.

Before he could survey the room further, Douglas towered over him. An affable grin greeted Ezra as Douglas stuck out his hand. “What a fortunate coincidence to run into you here. I am glad to see my favor has not been wasted.”

Yes, um, thank you, sir.” Ezra said as he grasped Douglas’s hand for a stiff handshake.

“Oh, no need for such formalities. You can call me Douglas. I believe I never got your name, young man.”

“It’s Ezra.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Ezra. I hope your journey here wasn’t too treacherous.”

“It's been tough.” More than tough, Ezra thought. He wasn’t about to tell the whole truth to this stranger.

“When has sky-seeking not been.” Douglas smiled as if his words were meant to be a comfort. “Have you come to join a guild? I will be honest with you. The Light Bearers are typically not people's first choice.”

That information wasn’t important to him right now. Ezra needed real answers —something to scratch that itch squirming in the back of his mind. “That night on the first layer you showed my boss a card. What was on that card?”

“Oh that,” Douglas mused. Like magic, a black card appeared between his fingers. “This is simply my business card.”

In silver letters, the top of the card read ‘Douglas A. Morgan’. Below the name, the letters shifted briefly as Ezra blinked. Then they remained steady and formed the words ‘Head of Vibrations and Sonics.’ At the bottom of the card, in bold font, the logo of Faulpher-tek stared back at him.

“So you work for Faulpher-tek,” Ezra said, trying to hide the anxiety and disdain in his voice.

“I take it you don’t view them kindly.”

Air froze in Ezra’s lungs as his mind raced for an answer. “Well, I never said…”

“I can tell from the tone of your voice.” Douglas’s cold eyes stared him down, yet the fear Ezra felt only stayed for a second as Douglas’s face lit up with a polite grin. “Working for a weapon company comes with its share of controversy.”

Ezra let slip a nervous laugh. Talking to this man was exhausting.

A barely audible buzz came from Douglas’s forearm, and the man briefly checked his wristwatch. “I am delighted to have formally met you, but other matters call my attention. We can link pockets if you should ever need to contact me again.”

“Link?” Ezra asked as he pulled the gray disk from his pocket.

“It’s very simple. We tap the two devices together,” Douglas touched his disk to Ezra’s, “and it will allow text-based communication.”

As Douglas put his pocket away, Ezra noticed it had a purple outline along the rim. He tried to remember what rank the color corresponded to but could not recall. I’ll ask Milo later.

Douglas said his farewells and promptly left. Still in the middle of the crowded hall, Ezra supposed he should continue his search for Milo and Emma.

The last he saw of them they were going towards the large board on the other end of the room. Despite the crowd, he decided to search there first. As he passed through the throng of people, mist-like screens ranging from gray to red to purple winked in and out of existence above people’s heads. On one screen he saw ‘Level 56’ across the top. On another ‘Level 94’ and near the front of the crowd, a man with form-fitting silver armor had ‘Level 178’. The wealth of power in this room was almost unimaginable. He wondered what level the test admin in Deepburrow had.

“Hey, there you are!” A hand grasped Ezra’s shoulder, and he turned back to see Milo. Emma was no longer on his shoulders.

“Where’s Emma?” Ezra asked.

“I left her with several guild members she said she knew. They’ll be able to take care of her for the day.” Milo paused and slightly furrowed his brow at Ezra. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You just seem a little more tense than usual,” Milo replied as he peeked at the board behind Ezra.

“You know. New environment and all. Still, a lot to figure out.”

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“Well, if you’re up to it, we can go shopping for new equipment. They probably have plenty of stuff up here that we couldn’t find in Deepburrow.”

“Yeah, let's do that,” Ezra said with a hint of hesitation in his voice as he rubbed his hand against the gray disk in his pocket.

As they exited the guild hall, the light breeze felt nice after the stifling crowds. Further along, the street opened up, and more of the buildings stood on solid foundations. Glass windows were clean, and layers of brick firmly fit together around polished doorframes. The disparity between the streets on the outskirts, near the lift, and further into the city was becoming more apparent. Roads were no longer dirt, and cobblestone ensured a smooth journey for the few carts that people pulled along.

“Look it's a Tarkin-tram!” Milo said with the same excitement children had when they saw an airship on the first layer.

A boxy carriage silently slid along rails of bright white stone. Ezra leaned his head to double cheek he wasn’t hallucinating. Surely enough, a gap remained between the carriage and the rails. The thing was floating with no propeller or loud engine.

“We only heard rumors of its development in Deepburrow, but I never thought we would get to see one.” Ezra straightened his head and watched as the tram disappeared from sight.

“So,” Milo said as he counted off items on his finger, “we need some new cookware, tents, backup weapons, and food.” He groaned as he counted off the last few items. “And those weapons were nice too. The quarter-staff had such a sick design on it. I don’t think we’re going to find something as good-looking.”

“Doesn’t it need to be practical first?” Ezra prodded.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter if I don’t look cool using it.”

Ezra cracked a smile. “I’m sure we’ll find something. Let's get going.”

Shop after shop Ezra felt worried as their coin pouch got lighter. Milo begged him to get a purple Polonite cookware set, yet once he saw the price he cinched the coin pouch tighter. As they were shopping for tents, Ezra began to wonder about their lodging for tonight. In a city like this, there was no reason to camp outside, yet the price of lodging was still a mystery.

“Hey, Milo let's get the tents that are only 15 Alren.”

“Come on. Can’t we get anything nice?” Milo grabbed the tent roll while putting on a pout that didn’t last long.”

“I’ll be able to get our items out of the Thorin-sphere eventually. I just don’t want to invest too much.”

“But you don’t know when that’s going to happen.”

“Trust me it’ll happen. I have no intention of letting that artifact go to waste.” Ezra checked another item off his mental checklist as they exited the store.

“So the weapons store next,” Milo said as he put the tent roll into Ezra’s backpack.

Ezra stared down the street until he located a shop with two swords crossing the top. “Yep.”

A row of windows with several displays of weaponry wrapped around the front of the shop. Maces, polearms, swords, and axes, of all different shapes sizes, and colors lined the displays, including some weapons Ezra couldn’t recognize. Off to the far right, he saw a set of hammers similar to Malack’s. The thought of buying one passed his mind, but Ezra ultimately decided it wouldn’t fit his fighting style. He needed something light, but not daggers. He would wield anything but daggers.

Entering the store presented even more options. A counter wrapped around the right side of the room, and behind it stood the shopkeeper with a display of vibro-crystal guns above his head. The shopkeeper smiled to welcome them, and about a dozen other customers went about chatting or inspecting weapons.

“Remember we have a budget,” Ezra said before Milo went wandering off through the rest of the store. He sighed at Milo’s eagerness and went to look at the displays himself.

Behind him, a middle-aged and well-groomed man with a briefcase entered the store. Immediately he approached the shopkeeper. Ezra paid him little mind. Bits of their discussion drifted to him through the hum of conversation in the store.

“It seems our shipment didn’t make it to you Mr. Ravifort.”

Ezra took a sword with a thin long blade in his hands. It was light, but it didn’t balance exactly how he wanted it to.

“I want none of your business. I’ve made that clear several times. I refuse to…”

Several young sky-seekers, who Ezra thought might be even younger than him, cheered as one of them raised an ornately decorated axe above his head.

“I’m sorry to hear that. A sensible man like you would be wise to not report this to the Terras.”

As the middle-aged man left, the thud of his suitcase reverberated throughout the room as he dropped it. He made no attempt to go back for it. That’s strange, Ezra thought as he set the sword down.

Seconds later, the window nearest to the door shattered, and pieces of glass flew across the store as the middle-aged man tumbled back in. His back hit the counter with a thud, and another man stepped in through the broken window. His black boots crunched the broken glass underneath his feet as he raised a wood-polished vibro-crystal gun.

“Where is it?” The man in the window spat with a fury that creased the deep lines accentuating his age more than his graying stubble. He pulled a part of his gray coat from the edges of the broken window and stepped closer.

The man on the floor was still in a daze. “I… what… It's.”

Before he could respond, the man in the gray coat glanced at the briefcase near the door. Kicking weapons from the display, he lept down from the window and grasped the edges of the case. He kept his gun trained on the man against the counter at all times. “How do I deactivate it?”

“What do you think this is?”

The man holding the case flicked the hammer of his gun. “Damn it! Tell me now or I blow your brains out.”

“You can’t,” the other man sighed.

“What do you mean I can’t?

“It’s already activated. You can’t stop it unless you tear the whole case apart. Which, I can assure you don’t have the time to do.” The man smiled accepting his fate.

“Elysia’s whoreson.” The man in the gray coat snarled as he pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter sprayed the side of the countertop.

Ezra trembled at the sight and watched as the mysterious man grabbed the briefcase and ran out the door shouting for people to clear. He stood up slowly just in time to see the man throw the briefcase into the air and shoot it. A thunderous explosion ripped through the air, and flecks of burnt leather floated to the ground. The man turned to the patrons of the store, and his tired eyes met Ezra. Yet further behind his expression, a fire burned. A fire Ezra knew he had felt once before, but for him it was fresh. For this man in front of him, the inferno of revenge had been burning for far longer.